“空气感觉很好。”杰克生气地说。
“The air feels good,” Jake said crossly.
海伦说：“你觉得邮件已经送到你的办公室了吗？”
“Helene said, “Do you suppose the mail has arrived at your office?”
“没这么早。”马龙说，“不管怎样，我觉得第一封邮件里不会有对那个广告的回复。”他走了半条街，然后说：“我应该回家换身衣服。我的西装看起来就像我穿着它睡过觉一样。”
“Not this early,” Malone said. “Anyway I don’t think there will be any answers to that want ad in the first mail.” He walked half a block and said, “I ought to go home and change my clothes. My suit looks as if I’d been sleeping in it.”
“你确实睡过。”海伦说，“还是你不记得了？冯·弗拉纳根听到这起未遂谋杀案会说什么？”
“You have been,” Helene said, “or don’t you remember? What’s von Flanagan going to say when he hears about this attempted murder?”
“他会说每个人都合起伙来让他的生活变得艰难，他要退休去办一份周报。但他不会对我说这些，因为在这一团糟的事情解决之前，我要躲着他，就好像他刚染上黑死病一样。”
“He’s going to say that everyone conspires to make life hard for him, and that he’s going to retire and run a weekly newspaper. Only he isn’t going to say it to me, because until this mess is straightened out, I’m going to avoid him as though he were just ing down with bubonic plague.”
他们沉默地走了几个街区。在周围，芝加哥开始迎来新的一天。杰克想，现在从加里到埃文斯顿，从橡树园到湖边，闹钟都在响着。有些人刚刚重新入睡。另一些人，他希望自己是其中之一，刚刚上床睡觉。不过，在某个地方，有一个男人或女人既没有醒来也没有睡着，因为莫娜·麦克莱恩杀了他。不是那两个图伊兹中的任何一个，也不是罗斯·麦克劳林。杰克开始怀疑，再要一具尸体是不是在考验上帝的安排。
They were silent for a few blocks. All around, Chicago was beginning to wake up for the day. Alarm clocks were ringing right now, Jake reflected, from Gary to Evanston, from Oak Park to the lake. Some people were just settling down for a second sleep. Others, and he wished he were one of them, were just getting into bed. Somewhere, though, was a man or a woman who wasn’t waking and wasn’t sleeping, because Mona McClane had murdered him. It wasn’t either of the Tuesdays and it wasn’t Ross McLaurin. Jake began to wonder if it wasn’t tempting providence to ask for another corpse.
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